When it rains, everyone needs an umbrella.
Umbrella
Black clouds overhead,
yet I walk dry
beneath a black umbrella.
Pitter-patter of falling rain:
my ears strain to catch
a nearby robin’s song.
I have mislaid his voice
and can no longer
translate his liquid trills
nor transform them
into a sunlight that will glisten
through dripping leaves.
Frogs in the summer pond
explode light bulbs in my brain.
A rainbow glistens in the pools
beneath my feet.
I want to see my garden reborn,
with words and my world renewed.
I thirst once more for life’s
sweet, fresh water.
Here below is the voice recording of my poem Umbrella.
rogermoorepoet 
This is such a pleasure to read…a few possible meanings detectable as well, one revealed by the red spectacled character with the British umbrella.
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I did a Brexit post with that cartoon the other day. Such a problem, that Brexit. I still don’t understand it. Nor the US Govt shutdown. Crazy.
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Yes the referendum was a fatal error and they can’t seem to pull themselves out of the mess.
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